


Brave New World

by thirdfinger



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-12
Updated: 2011-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdfinger/pseuds/thirdfinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A forgotten weekend will prove to be very important to Noah Bennet.<br/>WARNING: MPREG!  But I'd like to think it's somewhat tastefully done.  It's not your typical MPREG story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thanks and smoochies for [](http://la-dame-du-lac.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://la-dame-du-lac.livejournal.com/)**la_dame_du_lac**... my patient beta reader and clever bunny who came up with the title.

"And you really can't remember what happened?"

"Not a single detail since checking into my hotel."

Angela looked sceptically at Noah. She thought he might be telling the truth but he was a skilled enough liar that she couldn't be absolutely certain. Her best agent was also one of her most slippery when it came to pinning down exactly what he did on a mission; especially when he was on the trail of a dangerous special. You could never be sure he wouldn't take matters into his own hands and execute the special before they could be given the chance to be rehabilitated.

"I could ask someone to verify the truth," Angela said warningly but Noah shrugged in response to her threat.

"So, bring in Parkman. I wouldn't mind knowing what happened, myself."

She stared at him, trying to match up this moment with a dream she had. But, no, it wasn't this meeting in her office she'd dreamed about. That time hadn't come yet because he was still... he was composed. In her dream he'd been visibly upset.

Not that he shouldn't be upset about an entire weekend, an entire mission, going missing from his memories but he seemed very calm about it. That usually meant he was bottling it up until he could be alone.

"No. That won't be necessary. I'd like it if you'd report for counselling, Noah."

He smiled at her causing his cheeks to dimple in a manner that invited you to trust him, "And I'd like a blue pony, Angela."

She smiled tersely in return. Some things would never change and Noah avoiding emotional and psychological counselling was one of them. "I think we're done here."

He left with a smile and the vanished weekend soon faded from his memory.

* * *

"Again?"

Noah waved Tracy off and ducked into an alley to noisily empty his stomach. She tried not to be too conspicuous as she waited for her partner to finish puking. She checked her messages, her email, her twitter and she was getting ready to check her email again when Noah finally emerged, not looking his best.

"You should see a doctor," Tracy said. She was concerned but it was barely reflected in her voice; she was a seasoned political aide even if she wasn't currently employed as one. "You've been sick for weeks."

"I'm fine," Noah said weakly. He had been sick for weeks and he was bloated, too; his pants barely fit and it felt like he was constantly full. It was terribly irresponsible of him not to go to the doctor but in the back of his head all he could think of was the big 'C' -- cancer.

Tracy looked at him for a long moment then tucked her cell phone away. "If you say so. But as your partner, I've reported your illness; you've got an appointment in an hour."

The look on Noah's face was worth the bitchiness she'd have to put up with for ratting him out.

"I'm driving," she said firmly and held her hand out for his keys. It was a sign of how poorly he felt that he handed the keys over with only minimal hesitation.

"This can't be right," Noah said hollowly. The Company doctor stared at Noah. He was paid a lot of money and had seen enough strange stuff that he didn't laugh outright at the results of his examination. He couldn't imagine what was going through his patient's head.

"I'm afraid the ultrasound has confirmed it, Mr. Bennet. It isn't cancer, you've... somehow... grown a set of internal female organs and you're-"

Noah held up a hand for silence. "Shouldn't I have external female organs, as well?" The doctor flipped through his chart so he wouldn't have to meet Noah's eyes.

"There's evidence that shows you might have ha-"

Noah's hand went up again, silencing the next words out of his mouth. "Give me the report," he demanded. "I need to read it for myself." He yanked the report from the doctors hands and read it slowly, putting pieces together.

"Shit," he swore softly. He'd forgotten about that mystery weekend a few months back but now it looked like what he didn't remember was vitally important.

* * *

"What exactly am I looking for?"

"Details of a weekend in Las Vegas, nine weeks ago," Noah replied, "and don't go poking around for anything else."

Matt Parkman raised his eyebrows at that. Like he couldn't help but see more than what he was required to find. But Noah seemed really defensive, more so than usual, so he'd be careful not to reveal how much he couldn't help but pick up. He'd keep his lips sealed and-

"Holy shit! You're pregnant!"

Noah glared at Matt. He'd told him not to look at anything other than that mystery weekend! Matt didn't even have the presence of mind to look embarrassed, he was so shocked.

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Noah growled through gritted teeth, "that's why I want to know what happened in Vegas. The whole mission is a blank for me."

Matt licked his lips nervously. Working around Noah, with their history, was touchy at the best of times but with the current situation he felt like he was seconds away from eating a bullet. "What if I can't find anything?"

"Then I'll be getting in touch with my good friend, Rene. And after him every empathic mimic I know. Now quit stalling." Noah didn't want to believe Rene would have taken part in covering up the events that led to his pregnancy but if Matt couldn't find any suppressed memories, if they were gone completely, then he'd have to question his friend and oftentimes partner.

He was determined to learn the truth.

Matt took a deep breath. He'd read Noah's mind before but last time there'd been drugs in Noah's system and Noah had fought him, this time Noah was as unguarded as a man like him could be and the process was a hundred times easier.

He sifted through weeks of memories, thankful Noah had such an organized mind, until he reached an area that was suspiciously blank. Noah remembered checking into his hotel then...  
Nothing. There was nothing. It was as if an invisible hand had reached in and scooped out those memories leaving nothing behind. The thread of his memory went from entering his hotel room to sitting in a taxi cab on his way to the airport a couple of days later.

It was the Haitian's work. He'd seen the effects before.

Noah glared at him, "Well? Did you find anything?"

"No. Nothing. Some-one's gone in and cleaned you out."

"But why would he do it?" Noah asked.

"The Haitian, right? I thought he was your partner..."

"He is," Noah said quietly.

And because Rene was Noah's partner it wasn't very difficult to find him; he paged him to come into the office for a meeting.

The conference room wasn't where Noah usually liked to meet but he didn't have an office and the conversation he was planning was meant to be private.

When Rene arrived, Noah had already eaten three donuts and finished off half the carafe of coffee. He tried to tell himself it was just nervous eating but he had to admit, his appetite had been growing over the past week. He glared down at his gut, daring it to stick out, silently willing the growing fetus inside him to spontaneously abort.

"Hello my friend," Rene said quietly as he entered the room.

Noah glared at him. "Shut the door," he commanded. Rene did as he was instructed and stood, relaxed and confident, before Noah. He looked utterly at ease but Noah could see small signs, a twitch, a slight sheen to his skin, that told him Rene was nervous.

"Why did you clean the memories of my mission in Vegas two months ago?" With Rene, he could be blunt. He'd trusted Rene with his life, his family, his whole world and he hoped he had a good reason to go in and destroy a weekend's worth of memories.

"I had to," Rene said sadly. "You were... I have never seen you in such a state."

"What happened?"

Rene remained quiet. The look he gave Noah was full of sympathy but he had that stubborn look on his face that was very familiar. They were going to go head to head on this and Noah wasn't sure he could win - not if Rene felt he was protecting him.

He'd have to fight dirty.

He handed Rene a brown manila envelope containing the results of his visit to the doctor. Rene hesitated a long moment before he gave in and read the contents.

"But," he said, his normally low voice raising an octave with surprise, "this is impossible!"

"You'd think so, but here I am."

Rene stared at the paper in his hands so he wouldn't have to look at Noah as he wrestled with the decision to share what he knew. A long moment passed as he weighed the pros and cons. Finally he said, "You had been violated."

"It wouldn't have been the first time," Noah said with his voice carefully neutral.

Rene shook his head, indicating Las Vegas had been different. "I have never seen you so upset," Rene's dark eyes were swimming with emotion. He reached out to grasp Noah's upper arm and squeezed sympathetically, "My actions seemed necessary, my friend."

Noah didn't shrug off Rene's hand, which showed that on some level he believed Rene, but he did keep his tone brusque as he asked, "Do you know what happened? Who was involved?"

The look Rene gave Noah revealed more about what he knew than he'd admit to.

"You said you'd been changed into a woman, or partially, and it had been the work of a special", Rene said, carefully choosing his words. "You did not name the special or why he had changed you. When we", he hesitated, "examined you we could not find evidence of the change. We had assumed the encounter had been telepathic, not physical, in nature."

No, the special was not named but there was no doubt from what Noah had been saying who the special had been. There was no telling what Noah might do to himself if he had that knowledge back before the baby was born. Rene would not endanger his friend or his unborn child by giving him a name.

"I see", Noah said quietly. He could tell Rene was holding back but what could he do about it? Past experience had shown him Rene was not the sort to give in to his threats; not if he thought he was looking after him by not naming names. "I'll want to know everything."

"Perhaps after you and your child are safe", Rene promised him. It was an admission to make such a promise but there was understanding between them already that Rene knew more than he was sharing.

"I hope you've made the right decision about this", Noah said.

"I hope I have, too, my friend."

* * *

Angela reviewed the report in front of her, again, and then stared at the visibly upset man seated across from her, again. Ah, this was her vision from months prior. "You're pregnant." There was no question in her voice, it was a statement; she had accepted this as truth.

Noah nodded slowly, glumly, and stared at his hands.

"We have procedures for this," she said briskly. "No field work, full medical, you get a year's maternity leave and when you come back to work we have daycare facilities available."

Noah stared in shock at her. "You've had this happen before?"

She glanced at him then back at her desk, "Of course. Usually only with female agents but we're a modern Company and quite adaptable. If our male agents want to start having babies, we can accommodate them."

"I don't want to have a baby, Angela; I don't even know how this happened!"

Her mouth tightened, "Then you should have seen a doctor sooner, Noah. Eight weeks is, legally, the cut off age for an abortion. Dr. Hughes seems to think that, with the female organs now in your system, you'll be able to carry to full-term without risking your life. He has no medical reason to suggest you need an abortion."

"You're joking," Noah said flatly. "I'm a man, Angela, I can't have a baby!"

"Well, apparently you're not all man and you can have a baby." She looked at him, "Unless you can come up with a doctor's recommendation for an abortion, you're carrying that baby to full-term, Noah. It's your responsibility.

"Now, did Parkman find anything about that lost weekend?"

"No," Noah said sullenly. "He says it's like I was unconscious for two days."

She stared at him for a long moment then clucked her tongue, "Then I'm also assigning you mandatory rape counselling."

"What?"

"No arguments, Noah. And if you need it, I have had two children of my own, I'd be happy to give you advice."

Noah stood up and left without another word.

* * *

He'd always thought he wouldn't be cut out for a desk job and months of being out of the field had proven him right. He liked being on his feet, interacting with people, free. Being trapped in an office was Hell. He limped over to a file cabinet shoved in the corner of his dining room and made a small sound, not unlike a whimper, when his back screamed at him for standing up.

Maybe it was better he wasn't in the field.

Angela had him working in archives where his skills at investigation and putting together clues were being put to use on cold cases; reopening dead-end cases he could build up enough to lead to action.

The best part was he could work from home, which, with his current condition, meant he didn't have to answer questions about why he suddenly had an enormous beer gut. It also meant he could wear comfortable jogging pants and a loose tee shirt instead of a suit; not that any of his suits fit him and you couldn't exactly buy maternity suits for men.

Weeks of blowing Claire off for dinner dates had her finally show up at his apartment and, after an uncomfortable conversation she immediately offered to go get him ice cream and pickles.

After that she made a point of stopping by often, despite her clearly being uncomfortable with his condition, to make sure he had healthy groceries and was taking his vitamin supplements. To his eternal shame he could have cried he was so grateful for her support and home cooking.

He really hoped she kept her promise and didn't tell Sandra about his condition.

With Claire visiting frequently Noah didn't even hesitate when there was a knock on his door one evening. It was a bit late for her to drop by but maybe she had classes or was planning to stay in his guest room for the night.

Claire had never greeted him with a gun in his face.

"Back into the apartment, Bennet." Claude Rains. He looked worse for wear and more than a little desperate.

Noah raised his hands to show he was unarmed and backed into the apartment. "Take it easy, Claude..."

"Don't tell me what to do! I'm in charge here! I," he shook his gun in Noah's face, "have a gun!"

"Yes, you do." Noah had seen that look on Claude's face before. He was doing something he'd had to psyche himself up for and he wasn't comfortable doing it. Noah's gut was cramping and he hoped it was just from Claude's surprise visit. "Do you mind if I sit down? My back's killing me."

"No!" Claude said immediately then thought about what he'd said, "I mean, YES I mind! You stay there with your hands where I can see them!"

Noah remained where he was. You shouldn't argue with a desperate man when he was armed. He noticed Claude still had the safety on his gun; that gave him hope this wouldn't end in blood. He remained still even when Claude circled him, looking him up and down, trying to make sense of what he saw.

"You got fat," Claude said bluntly, "and you've got glasses."

"Yes," Noah agreed. The cramps were really getting strong now and he felt himself start to sweat from the strain of keeping his expression calm. "I've had glasses for years now and I started to show a few months ago." He waited patiently for that to sink in. Even if it got him shot it would be worth it for the look on Claude's face.

"You look old and pregnant," Claude groused. "'s not a good look on you."

"Oh, I'll give birth soon and it won't be an issue," Noah deadpanned. "I'm sure the glow of motherhood will take years off."

Realization dawned and Claude jumped back in shock, "HOLY CHRIST! YOU'RE PREGNANT!" The gun forgotten, Claude started to pace the room in agitation. "You're a man! It's impossible! Who's the father? Did you do this on purpose? Does Sandra know?"

Noah nodded at his easy chair, "May I sit down, please?" It was the closest he'd come to begging. Claude waved permission as he stalked around the room and Noah sank gratefully into the soft upholstery of the chair. "Thank you.

"Now, to answer your questions: I don't know who did this or how, I didn't do it on purpose, and Sandra doesn't know because we're divorced and it's none of her business." He looked mournfully at his feet. He used to be able to touch them. Another cramp gripped him and he really hoped it wasn't a contraction. "And I know you're out for revenge but would you mind waiting until after the baby is born to kill me?"

Claude's jaw dropped, "And then what happens? I shoot you and..."

"And I suppose my child goes to an orphanage. Or Angela might take it in and raise it in the Company." Noah watched Claude wince with satisfaction. He'd grown up in an orphanage and in the Company, both, and neither of them had been very good options from what Noah had heard from him.

"I hate you so much," Claude said tiredly and sat down on the couch opposite. "I came here to kill you and you're, you're..." Suddenly he burst out laughing. "You're PREGNANT YOU BIG GIRL!" The laughter took on a hysterical edge and Noah wasn't sure if the tears were from mirth or regret or anger. They were probably a combination of all three.

Noah struggled to his feet. He wasn't bothered by the laughter but he really needed to get that gun away from Claude before he hurt himself. Shuffling over to where Claude was curled up on the couch in hysterics he kicked the gun under the coffee table then patted Claude's arm, "I'm going to get you a cup of tea."

Minutes later they were seated across from each other in Noah's living room with tea and cookies and a big bowl of chili each. (The chili was compliments of Claire who made sure Noah had something nutritious and microwaveable in his fridge at all times.) Noah didn't touch his food, the cramping was still quite bad, but he figured Claude looked like he hadn't eaten a hot meal in a while and it kept Claude's hands busy and where he could see them.

Claude had adjusted like a professional to Noah's strange condition. He'd seen stranger things, after all, working for The Company. "Well, how's the baby going to come out?"

"Oh, that." Noah waved a hand as if it weren't a huge concern. "Surgery; but the doctor has reason to believe that I had external female genitalia during conception and it might manifest again to give birth."

Claude kept his cool for a moment then burst out laughing again.

"Yes, yes, it's very funny. I have a vagina." Noah glared at Claude, "Don't be so juvenile."

"It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy!" Claude laughed with wicked delight. "Please say I can be there for the delivery!"

"Oh, eat your chili," Noah said sullenly. "You can't be there for the delivery because it's going to happen at the Company's medical facilities and you're still blacklisted. I'll have it recorded for your viewing pleasure."

"Ta, luv," Claude said with a grin.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Hee, yeah! 'S good chili too! "

"Claire made it."

"Always knew that girl was talented."

Noah silently ate his chili, letting the banter die between them. It was so easy to fall back into the familiarity of their friendship, even if Claude had come here to kill him. Even that, however, wasn't something totally unexpected; not like his present condition. "Claude, I'm pregnant. I don't know who the other father is. Its like a ridiculous, soap opera-esque plot."

"I know! It's brilliant! I couldn't have thought up a better rev-" Claude's voice trailed off when he saw the look on Noah's face. He was vulnerable and... "You're going to cry, aren't you?"

"No!" Noah protested but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and stared at the wall above Claude's head. If he didn't blink there wouldn't be tears.

"Oh god, you are," Claude said, fascinated and moved by the thought of the implacable Noah Bennet weeping.

Noah set his chili bowl aside and tried to pull himself together. "Why don't you come back in a month," he said in a cold voice. "I should be back from the hospital by then and weak enough you'd stand a chance."

"I won't bring my baby back with me. You won't have any complications."

Claude stared at Noah in shock. "You bloody robot! Is that the sort of person you think I am? You think I'd kill you, the only parent, and leave your baby an orphan?"

"I came here to-to-to DO something to you. Maybe shoot you. Maybe just let you know I'm still out there watching your every move and you're all pregnant and helpless and you're supposed to be a bloody emotionless robot that shot your best friend because you were ordered to! You're not supposed to be... human."

Noah was quiet in the face of Claude's tirade then for a long moment afterwards. "I've always been human," he said quietly, "if being human means feeling regret."

"Oh, shut up," Claude said gruffly. "That's not a proper apology."

"I know. I-" Noah paled as a strange, tearing, sensation in his groin was followed by a gush of warm wetness that immediately soaked through his jogging pants. A moment later, when his brain caught up to what his body was doing, he became cognizant of pain.

Claude watched Noah try to get up out of his chair, his face contorted with pain, only to fall back again with a pained whimper. His first instinct was to go to Noah's side but he held himself back; he'd been Noah's partner for too long to not be wary. It could be a trap!

Then he saw the mess soaking through Noah's pants.

His mouth worked a few times before sound was produced, "__?" It was a squeak full of horror.

Noah tried reaching for a manila envelope propped on a side table next to his comfortable chair. "Hng! Pr--procedure... Please..." He doubled over, his arms protectively going around his cramping stomach.

Numbly, because what was happening was too much to comprehend, Claude took the manila envelope and read the contents. Inside was a quick procedure on where to go and what to do when Noah started having contractions. Trust Noah to have it planned out like this; The Man with the Plan, indeed.

Unfortunately, there was a flaw in Noah's plan; there was no way he'd be able to drive himself to the facility. An alternative was to call a taxi cab, Noah had it outlined very clearly, but Claude couldn't imagine him taking a cab in his condition by himself.

Just like back when he was an Agent the moment of panic quickly evaporated, once he knew what he was supposed to do, and he felt his mind crystallize with calm. He quickly read over the procedure again and noted it required Noah to have an emergency bag packed. "Where's your bag, then?"

"C-closet," Noah gasped through the pain.

Of course there were three closets in the small apartment but Claude quickly found the bag in the foyer closet; the most logical place to put it.

He consulted the procedure again and flipped the page to see a map with the facility clearly marked with a highlighter. "Okay, this is what's going to happen," he said in a tone that didn't invite argument. "I'm going to help you into your car and drive you to the facility. You're not going to pull any funny business with guns, karate chops, or calling for backup."

The look Noah gave Claude made it very clear the only business he had right now was figuring out how to get a baby out of his body.

"Right! Keys. Where're your keys?" Without waiting for an answer Claude searched the pockets of Noah's coat and found them. It was nice to see Noah was still a creature of habit in many ways.

Claude helped Noah to his feet, threw his coat over his shoulders, and supported him as he helped him limp out the door and into Noah's shiny, black SUV.

Noah kept trying to say something to Claude between bouts of cramping and strained whimpers. Finally he managed to blurt out, "S-sorry! I'm sorry."

"Augh! You're apologizing? Now?" Claude's white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the way he stared dead ahead should have been an indicator of how stressed and nervous he was about speeding through evening traffic on ambulance duty. "Let me make sure you don't explode, first!"

Noah rested his head against the window and tried to breathe. "O-kay..."

It was a testament to how much pain Noah was in that he didn't stubbornly push the issue like Claude was anticipating. He glanced quickly at Noah then sped up. Even if he got a speeding ticket it wasn't his damn car.

The facility looked like a private medical clinic, nondescript but sterile, with no external signs announcing it was a medical facility; how very Company.

Claude parked in front of the entrance and patted through Noah's pockets for his wallet. "I'm just going to let them know you're here, grab a wheelchair or something."

Noah grabbed his hand. His face was pale, his skin sweaty, and there was a look in his blue eyes that Claude hadn't seen often; Noah was terrified. "I... I'll be right back," Claude said quietly.

He turned invisible and ran to the entrance. He was keenly aware of the security cameras everywhere on the property. Normally he'd wait for someone to exit the building so they'd open the door for him but he didn't have the luxury of time. The cameras might record the door opening invisibly but he couldn't be the only invisible man, right?

It was quick work for him to find a wheelchair and wheel it, invisibly, out of the facility to the parked SUV. He made Noah invisible to transfer him to the wheelchair and had a moment of panic, where he stood immobilized, when he realized there was blood pooled on the leather upholstery seat.

It wasn't that he hadn't seen Noah injured and bleeding before but, rather, that he suddenly found himself visualizing where that blood had likely leaked from.

He probably shouldn't have just left Noah in the foyer and run off but, even if he weren't concerned about his safety in a Company facility he was certainly concerned about his sanity in the face of Noah's new lady bits.

If Noah survived the process then maybe Claude would see him again. Maybe.

* * *

Noah was grateful he couldn't remember much of the actual birth. He had, as predicted, grown external female genitalia in time for the birth but his hips weren't wide enough for a vaginal delivery so a cesarean was ordered. He didn't even try to tough it out and gratefully accepted as many drugs and painkillers as they saw fit to give him.

He'd been in some horrific situations in the past but the pain of childbirth was the worst pain he'd ever experienced. He had a new-found respect for mothers.

The medical staff had been professional and efficient and he'd appreciated the lack of horror on their part when presented with his unusual condition; Noah Bennet giving birth was just another day for a Company obstetrician.

He was vaguely aware, through a haze of drugs and pain, of having a small bundle set into his arms - an oddly considerate action for the Company. His newborn daughter's wrinkled red face was both ugly and endearing nearly beyond his heart's capacity to contain the love he felt for her.

A nurse, with green eyes and a lock of blonde hair escaped from her bonnet, watched him intently as he held his daughter. He wasn't sure what she was looking for and he didn't much care; likely she'd been sent by Angela to report on the birth.

Finally little Anna, named for his Grandmother, was taken away from him for weighing and whatever else they needed to do. He protested but it was weak as he was already losing consciousness. His last thoughts were confused but one thing was very clear to him; he would never again be in a position where his Anna could be taken away from him.

The nurse holding Anna Bennet watched Noah fall asleep, noting the look on his face, and nodded to herself. She helped weigh and measure the newborn then fastened a plastic ID bracelet around her ankle. Samples would be taken once they were certain she was in stable condition.

She cradled little Anna gently in her arms as she carried her to her little temperature-controlled crib; nothing but state-of-the-art technology for the Company. Before she set her inside she took a long moment to look at the baby, hungry green eyes memorizing every detail. Finally, she kissed the top of her head and set her in her crib.

When Nurse Wolchek showed up late for her shift nobody noticed; to them she'd been there on time and had helped bring Noah Bennet in. The discrepancy was filed in a report but there was little that could be done to track down her doppelganger.

Or to explain how Noah's body had mysteriously healed and returned to an all-male form.

The incident was kept secret from Noah Bennet. No need to feed his paranoia.

* * *

The future seemed to be on track.

Sylar examined the series of sketches on the floor in front of him. They were subtly different in some areas from the first set he'd sketched and glaringly different in others.

In the newest sketches he was alive.

He didn't quite understand how that would happen but the baby girl he'd cradled in his arms, as Nurse Wolchek, would have something to do with saving his life and it had taken months of concentrated effort to piece together how he could arrange for her birth and protection until that time.

Noah Bennet had been the key. He was the only person Sylar knew who would be able to protect their daughter and guarantee she lived long enough to do what Sylar brought her into being to do. That Noah had been male had been a tricky but, ultimately, minor hurdle to overcome.

Sylar smiled as he looked over the newest paintings. His daughter would be raised by his favourite enemy, the Company he hated, and an invisible man.

Even without her destiny, she would truly be special.


End file.
